A Late Night Muse
by halfdigit
Summary: Harry is growing more and more weary of upcoming NEWTs as he begins to question whether or not he has what it takes to become the respectable auror he wishes to be for the Ministry. Luna Lovegood becomes an inspiration for him, and perhaps something more.
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: In this world, Harry vanquished the Dark Lord in his fourth year. (Cedric Diggory lives! ^.^) These are his last few months as a student at Hogwarts.

CHAPTER 1

Harry sat nervously at the edge of the Black Lake, a potions book open in his lap, staring off far past the hills in the distance, at nothing in particular. The old and peeling cover pressed ever-presently against his fingertips was a hot fire burning its way into his nerves. Thoughts of his future, and memories of his time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, mingled together in his mind to form one of the strangest emotions he'd ever felt. As he allowed his gaze to go ever outward over the lake and beyond, it seemed to make its way straight across the world and back into himself. Yes, he had been spending quite a bit of time lately lost in the world of "What now?", and it had him pondering a lot on what has been. When Harry acknowledged this to himself, a voice inside his head reminded him that perhaps this was one of the reason's he'd been doing so poorly in his classes this year. He sighed lightly, took a small and determined breath, and looked back down at the text in his hands. He began carefully reading the tiny print that filled the seemingly endless pages, trying to gain a full understanding of it all in his own terms before reaching for his quill to write down what seemed to be the most important points. By this point in his schooling, potions wasn't so much about the history aspect of the art, but more about the methods of brewing the potions themselves. When Harry first realized this at the beginning of the year, he had been relieved, thinking exams would be easier. He was learning now how very wrong he was. This particular potion had no less than 87 different ingredients, and over half of them came from the same plant. All week he'd been at a loss when it came to memorizing exactly which parts and how much of them went into the potion, and the order in which they were added caused his mind to reel, desperately trying to remember it all.

"The Hollywart root," he murmured to himself, "to be added in three increments of half a teaspoon, precisely twelve minutes and 37 seconds after the veins from the Hollywart leaves." Shaking his head impatiently at himself, he looked back down at the page, "No..that's not right. '...precisely twelve minutes and 47 seconds after the veins...'" Before he allowed himself to grumble at having been wrong, Harry began to write down the correct procedure on his parchment, and continued perusing the page, careful to read out loud every step, then repeat it without looking.

After about forty-five minutes had passed, Harry had three and a half rolls of parchment filled with his scrawling handwriting. Looking over his notes, he grimaced at the way his already not-so-neat hand steadily deteriorated into almost illegible chicken scratch as the notes progressed, his lines going from bone straight to a steep slant towards the bottom right hand corner of the page. Sighing loudly and rubbing his eyes, he prepared himself to turn the page of his text and begin committing to memory the proper attire of the witch or wizard making the potion. It baffled him to think that a potion would come out any differently whether the brewer's socks were wool or cotton, but he knew it was important, and he matter of factly turned the page. He got about as far as the third word of the first sentence when a god awful noise filled the air around him.

"Wheeeeeeeeeee LOKLOKLOK gaaaaawheeeeee!" It sounded to Harry like a large housecat coughing up a hairball twice the size of itself while riding on the largest roller coaster in all of England.

"WheeeeeLOK gaaaLOKLOK," the sound came again. This time Harry noticed it was coming from the woods to the left of him. Nervously, he put his notes in his text, saving his page, and set the book on the grass beside him. He paused for a few seconds, waiting to see if the noise would start up once more. When it didn't, he quickly got to his feet and paced towards the forest's edge, gingerly pulling his wand from his sweater as he jogged. As he approached the tree line, the sound started again, and, wincing, he crept up to a thick tree and peered cautiously around it. He found himself looking at a small clearing, filled with sunlight and peppered with the last of winter's fallen leaves. Sitting on what appeared to be some kind of shrub at the opposite end of the clearing was Luna Lovegood. Her blonde hair was plaited into a long braid that hung carelessly over her right shoulder, swaying slightly as she stirred some concoction in a large cauldron that was floating just above the ground in front of her. She had on thick brown leather boots, and even thicker bright yellow socks that extended up to the top of her calves. Harry thought she looked a bit like a caricature of a muggle on safari, wearing short khaki shorts that were seemingly made up solely of large pockets, an oversized button up khaki shirt that had buttons shaped like binoculars, and cartoonishly large sunglasses with curved lenses that were so black and shiny they didn't seem real. She was sat on her shrub, stirring intently, as though the ear splitting sound coming from all around her weren't there at all. When the sound finally stopped, Harry stepped out from behind the tree and into the clearing. His arrival was announced by the sound of a leaf crunching beneath his feet, and though she had seemed oblivious to the loud screeching that had just transpired, at the sound of this crunching Luna looked up from her cauldron, though the rhythmic stirring went on as though her arm were on auto-pilot.

"Hello Harry," she said with a nod, almost as though she had been expecting him. Harry waved quickly as he jogged over to where she was, a deep sense of relief flooding over him knowing he was not alone.

Though Harry felt confident enough in his bravery and his ability to face whatever came, he knew deep down that the comfort and strength that comes with another's presence was second to none. He never liked to admit when he was frightened, and, thankfully, when someone else was with him most of his fears seemed to dissipate. Looking at Luna, he felt grateful that he knew he could truly call her a friend. His famous Gryffindor bravery would be nonexistent if it weren't for his closest allies willingly standing beside him ready to face what came.

"Hey Luna!" he breathed, allowing a wide and genuine grin to stretch across his face, which was slowly beginning to show some color once again, "What're you doing out here?" He eyed the cauldron curiously, and looked back at her just in time to see her raise her wand and gently flick it once in a sharp upwards movement. In the next instant, his vision was completely altered, and he thought he was going to be sick. Luna and the woods behind her were still in view, but they seemed so...different. So surreal. He looked back to the cauldron and saw that the once blueish mixture was now a color he had never before seen in all his time on this earth. Describing it would have been impossible, seeing as looking at it was almost just as difficult. In just one second, his whole reality was flipped upside down, more so even than when he had learned he was a wizard. That was just a concept he had to become accustomed to, and even then, something in him had slipped into place the moment he had found out, like a light coming on after years of darkness. It had felt so right. This...this was something else entirely. Before he could stop himself, he bent over and vomited on the ground beside him. Luna laughed and raised her wand again, whisking the vomit away.

"Sorry about that," she said, still chuckling a bit to herself, "it comes as quite a shock when you've got no warning." Harry groaned a bit and closed his eyes,

"Couldn't you have warned me then?"

"I'm sorry!" she said to him, "but time was of the essence. The fumes from this potion can cause blindness if you don't have proper protection." Harry looked at the strange glasses on Luna's face, and lifted a hand to feel his own eyes. He too was wearing a pair, and he was surprised at how lightweight they were, for they seemed so bulky and metallic. Luna's words sounded oddly familiar to him, and he searched his mind for where he might have heard something like that before when a line suddenly came to him, _Will lead to blindness if proper ocular protection is not attained._ The potion he had been reading about. There was no way Luna could be brewing this potion, it was far too advanced.

"That's not Cormac's Vein Enlarging Elixir...is it?" he asked, skeptically eyeing the bubbling brew in Luna's cauldron.

"Yes it is!" she said excitedly, placing her stirring rod on a tray that was floating next to her cauldron, "You're familiar with it then?" Harry stood for a moment, his mouth hanging open slightly, before responding,

"Yeah...it helps to promote blood flow, and when brewed just right it can be used as a cure for anemia." He spoke rather robotically, as he was still quite in awe, "This potion takes over a month to brew and is incredibly complicated. Why are you making it?" _How are you making it?_ he said to himself.

"For potions class of course," she said matter of factly, "I've had to start over twice because I've been experimenting a bit. I think now I've got it just where I want it." Harry could only stare at her. He could not believe what he was hearing. She must have been working on this potion for well over two months. A pang of what he desperately did not want to be jealousy hit him hard in his chest, and he thought he might cry a bit if he'd been alone. Harry wished so very badly that he could be her in that moment, that he had the skills to do what she was doing. The looming NEWTs that had been at the forefront of his mind for the whole year once again took center stage, as did visions of himself as an auror for the Ministry of Magic. Visions that were becoming ever blurrier as the year wound down and he questioned more and more his abilities as a wizard.

"What's wrong Harry?" Luna asked, forcing Harry's self-deprecating thoughts to stop in their tracks. He looked at her intently; she was focused on grinding some gelatinous substance into a light paste with a marble mortar and pestle. Harry watched as she used her wand to magic the paste into the cauldron, and the neon color he could not describe changed slowly into another color he had never before seen. Trying desperately to ignore the urgent flipping of his stomach, Harry opened his mouth to answer, not really sure what exactly he wanted to say, when that deafening sound filled the clearing all around them and seemed to pulse through the trees. Before he could even think, Harry flung himself to the ground and curled into a tight ball, his face pressed hard into his knees and his eyes squeezed shut.


	2. Chapter 2

Author's note: Sorry it took this long to get another chapter up. I got it out as fast as I could. If I had my way I'd take much longer, there's a lot of detail I know I could go back and put in if I let myself, but I figured I'd been taking long enough. I hope it's enjoyable :)

CHAPTER 2

Harry opened his eyes and found he was unable to move, his skin unbelievably cold and misted with sweat. Looking up, he saw Luna standing over him. She was looking down at him with a contemplative frown on her face, and he couldn't help but smile a bit at his own childishness. He let out a long breath and started to move himself into a sitting position when Luna spoke, her voice joining the soft chorus of forest noises fluidly.

"You're quite dramatic, Harry Potter," she said in an affectionate tone, and he sighed a brief laugh at that as he pushed himself up the rest of the way, brushing leaves and dirt off the back of his trousers once he was finally standing. Though every part of him wanted to go running in the opposite direction, away from whatever _thing _it was that produced such a chilling noise, Harry felt a strong sense of assurance in the fact that Luna was standing there, just as composed as ever.

"I s'pose I am," he said, looking anxiously into the shadows of the forest beyond the tree line of the clearing. He opened his mouth to ask Luna just what had been screeching, but wavered momentarily as he considered whether or not he really wanted to know. Just as he decided that maybe ignorance really was bliss, Luna extended a hand towards Harry and led him out of the clearing, to a seemingly unimportant tree that stood tall and thick among many others of its kind. Luna removed the goggles that took up half her face, and Harry hesitantly did the same. As the world around him returned to more familiar hues, Harry looked from Luna to the tree, and back to her. Luna looked up at the tall tree, smiling to herself, and Harry attempted to follow her gaze. He could see nothing out of the ordinary, save the strange movement of the tree itself; it swayed ever so slightly back and forth, and it seemed to Harry that each leaf, branch, and bough was moving entirely of its own accord, but all in perfect unison. A chill shot up his spine and he closed his eyes briefly, shaking his head and assuring himself that he'd been imagining it.

"Luna…" he started nervously, searching the treetop for what she was seeing, "what-"

"There," she said faintly, pointing upwards. Harry moved closer to Luna and bent his knees a bit, so his eyes would be at Luna's level. Allowing his gaze to move up her arm and past her finger, Harry's eyes fell on something small and bird-like, perched on a thick branch. Its body was the size of a grapefruit, and perfectly spherical, with a head slightly smaller and just as round. What at first glance he had taken to be feathers looked more like leaves as he began to really study the creature. These strange leaf-like scales shone in gradient shades of deep green in the midday sun, and as the light caught the top of the creature's head, Harry saw a thin streak of orange stretching from its eyes to the nape of its neck. Even from where he stood, Harry could see that the orange was deep and unending, like the fiery substance of a star. He could see it was glowing from within.

"What is it?" Harry whispered into her ear, not moving his gaze from the bird.

"Paracletus Pertinax," the blonde girl said, smiling a little wider, her eyes full of apparent admiration as she stared up into the tree's canopy. Harry looked a bit puzzled, and opened his mouth to ask her to elaborate, but Luna placed a single finger over her lips, silencing him. The honest smile on her face vanished, and was replaced by a concerned look that bordered on urgent.

"It's not safe here," she said in a tone so serious Harry felt a lump grow in his throat. She took his hand once more and led him hurriedly back to the clearing. As they reached the tree line, Luna turned to Harry and put her hand on his chest in a silent gesture that told him to stay where he was. He watched as she put her goggles back on her face and returned to her cauldron. A tiny metallic bird was fluttering around it, and its beak opened to emit a wind chime-like sound. She held out her hand, and the bird flew into it, and curled itself into a sphere the size of a walnut. After putting it in her pocket, Luna dropped something into her cauldron, and it began to bubble harshly and loudly. She then raised her wand and twirled it in tight circular motions, causing the shrub she had been sitting on to float upwards, separating into thousands of small leaves, and as she moved her wand ever so slightly, the swarm of leaves followed the path she made and formed a slowly rotating dome around her cauldron. Unable to suppress his curiosity and maintain his patience, Harry called to her as she began packing her things away into her bag.

"So…Paracletus Pertinax. What is it exactly?" Luna responded without turning,

"Most would refer to it as the Constant Defender. The safety of the group is of utmost importance." Luna laughed a bit to herself and continued, "They don't like to be bothered."

"That sound," Harry said, still monumentally curious, "I didn't expect it to come from such a small creature."

"Oh, no," Luna said, turning now, and gesturing for him to come into the clearing, "that was all of them."

"All of them?" The boy wizard felt his stomach drop as he hurried to Luna's side. He had scanned the tree top quite closely, and had assumed that the others must be off somewhere else at the time. The thought of having been surrounded by hundreds more without even realizing it caused Harry to gulp in fear.

"The horde stays inside the trunk," she explained, "When they're not in flight. They have a rotating watch; if the watch bird feels threatened, if some other forest creature gets too close or too nosy, he sounds his alarm, and the entire group joins in to warn the attacker to retreat. They like to keep to themselves you see. Every advance is seen as a potential attack." Harry digested this information, noting when his fear wore off that it all was rather interesting, really. He had often found himself reading through random passages in Hermione's books on magical creatures, in awe at the kind of things magical animals could do and how they behaved. In his opinion, magical creatures (next to Quidditch) were the most exciting things about the wizarding world, and even when the initial shock of being a wizard had worn off, it remained one of the few things that truly fascinated him whenever he learned anything more on the subject. He made a mental note to look into the Paracletus Pertinax a little more when he next had the chance, having a strange urge to delve further into the ins and outs of the species.

"It was kind of beautiful," he said to Luna as she slung her bag over her shoulder and began to head out of the clearing. He jogged to catch up with her and they walked side by side over the sprawling expanse of green toward the castle.

"It was, wasn't it?" Luna agreed. She turned to Harry and seemed to smile, mostly with her eyes. There was a look of omnipotence in them, and it intrigued Harry. He suddenly felt like he knew what it meant to be a Ravenclaw, and why Luna had been placed in that enigmatic house. The common attitude throughout the other houses in Hogwarts was that Ravenclaws were, simply put, know it alls and over achievers, but he seemed to understand in that moment that it was so much more than that. Their minds seemed to work on a different level; they saw everything while looking at nothing in particular. He studied Luna's face as she gazed out over the Black Lake, watching her eyes go in and out of focus as she alternately studied the landscape she saw and got lost in the landscape of her own mind. It was a few moments before he too looked out over the Lake, and spotted his school things, reminding him of all the work he still had to do.

"Those are my things," he said, waving over to the small stack of books lying next to a fading brown leather bag near the shore of the Lake. He changed direction, and Luna smiled at him, giving a small wave.

"It was nice seeing you Harry," she called to him softly, and he smiled back at her before turning his walk into a jogging pace. When he reached the grassy sanctuary that had been his work space for the past few hours, he lazily gathered his things into his bag, slipped it onto his back, and headed towards the castle himself, eager to drop his things off at his dorm and head down to the Great Hall for dinner. A light early evening chill filled the air around him, and Harry absentmindedly waved his hand, silently and wandlessly magicking a thick scarf out of the bottom of his bag and settling it around his neck. He quickened his pace over the last fifty yards to the castle, thinking of the strange green creature he'd just seen and wondering what its song sounded like when it wasn't scaring off predators.

o,o,o,o,o,o

"How many drops of Hollywart milk are stirred in again?" Hermione asked the air around her, staring up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall to stop herself from looking back down at the page, "Fifteen, right?" She looked nervously at Harry, who was currently sat across from her, digging in to a rather delicious slice of meatloaf.

"It's seventeen," Harry said automatically, too engrossed in his dinner to silently applaud himself at having known the answer without much thought. Hermione scowled and began to argue as she looked down at the book in her lap. When she saw he was right, her scowl deepened.

"I knew that," she muttered, her words trailing off to leave her mouth silently moving along with the text she began to fervently read. Going against his better judgment, Harry interrupted her studying to ask a question that had been plaguing him since he'd entered his common room an hour earlier.

"Hermione… Why is it that you aren't taking Advanced Potions?" He saw her mouth freeze and then drop open a bit, and she moved her eyes to glare at him while keeping her head down. Seemingly holding her breath, she closed her book firmly and looked him straight in the eye, folding her hands together and resting them on the table.

"What do you mean by that?" she snapped at him, and Harry knew at once that he probably should have kept his daft mouth shut. However, he had already breached the subject and felt he had no choice but to carry on.

"I just mean to say, well, since third year all your courses have been advanced…except for potions. So I was just wondering…you know… Why?" He quickly dropped his head and began to stab at his meatloaf, before shoving a too-large piece into his mouth to give himself something to do in order to avoid looking Hermione in the eye. When nothing but silence came from the temperamental witch, Harry swallowed too quickly and looked up at her, trying to look as apologetic as possible. Her head was down again, and she fidgeted with the corners of the pages in her textbook. Sighing, she finally looked up at him, seeming to have calmed a bit, and said quite genuinely in a voice that was laced with defeat,

"Well, at the end of third year I approached Professor Snape about being placed in the advanced classes, and, well he was really rather nice about it, which surprised me. I figured he would scoff and belittle me. But no…he was very professional…" She trailed off again and tried to look away, but Harry raised an eyebrow at her and goaded her to continue. She let out an exasperated sigh and almost yelled,

"He told me I do potions by the book! And that…that it took something more to be in the advanced classes. He said it took 'a certain fundamental understanding of potions and the ability to think outside the cauldron' to be able to succeed in any advanced Potions class." Her face fell then, and she made as though she were going to leave, rising from her seat and picking up her book in one hand and her bag in the other. Ron piped up then, trying desperately to stifle a laugh.

"Hermione, don't go! Come on, Harry and I are both in regular old dunce Potions and you don't see us getting all riled up about it. Sit down and eat your pudding." Hermione smiled at this and settled back into her chair, nuzzling Ron lightly on his shoulder with her forehead and sighing away her simmering anger.

"Right then," Harry said, scowling a bit himself at the now empty plate in front him, then perking up immediately as it filled itself with another slice of meat loaf, "now that that's out of the way, I've got another question." Hermione broke her eye contact with Ron and looked at Harry, her face slowly becoming more relaxed.

"What is it?" she asked curiously.

"What do you know about the Paracletus Pertinax?" he asked her, and his face fell when she snorted loudly and began laughing. "What?" he whined indignantly, his feelings getting rather hurt, "What's so funny?" After a few moments, Hermione straightened her features and responded,

"Well," Hermione said a little condescendingly, "for starters, it doesn't exist! There are those who say they have seen it, although usually people just report hearing them. They're supposed to be some kind of loud-mouthed birds who fly without flapping their wings, and if you get ahold of one you can eat its brains and be able to speak any language known and unknown to man!" Harry made a face of disgust, sticking out his tongue a bit, and hoped that this was just part of the myth that had gotten convoluted due to too many word of mouth stories travelling around for far too long.

"Interesting," was all he could bring himself to say as he recalled the events that had taken place earlier in the edges of the Forbidden Forest.

"Why do you ask?" Hermione probed, still giggling to herself as Ron muttered the word _brains _under his breath, clearly put off by the thought as well. Harry debated whether or not he should tell Hermione what he'd heard and seen earlier that day. He wasn't entirely sure if he wanted to talk about it, and he was afraid she might want to see for herself if he let on that he'd seen one. The thought of returning to the scene frightened him even more, so he decided against telling her.

"I ran into Luna today," he said, "and she mentioned it." Hermione laughed again, louder than before.

"Typical!" she said, shaking her head, "I can't believe you took her seriously, Harry. She's sweet, and very clever, but that girl spends too much time in her own head." Harry felt something well up in his chest, and he was hit with a strong urge to defend his mild-mannered friend. Instead, against everything his conscience told him to do, he chuckled along with her, muttering a short _You're right _before digging into his meatloaf, this time much less enthusiastically, and continuing his dinner in silence.


End file.
